gtmarcyk

My first clue about excess and redundancy of The Substance was the opening scene. A new star is placed on the 'walk of fame' and the sequence shows people's initial reactions to it degrading over the decades from excitement, to a passing memory, to distain, to indifference, and finally to obscurity. After 5 minutes the director has beaten this horse to death, brought it back to life, and then beat it again. I was expecting some homeless person to take a dump on it: just in case the audience didn't get the point the first ten times.

The bulk of the movie was a taut physiological horror story with an older star in conflict with a newer and better version of herself. The images pf her transformation are both shocking and realistic.

The movie lost me completely during the last 20 minutes. If you thought the projectile vomiting scene in "The Triangle of Sadness" was an artistic statement about modern society, then you will also appreciate the literal firehose of blood in this movie. As in the opening sequence, the director beats this idea to death and continues to beat it again and again.

This movie is supposed to be a critique of how the media exploits the beauty and sexuality of young women, only to toss them aside as they mature. Ironically, the director chooses to exploit the beauty and sexuality of the young co-star. Is that the point?

Movies are famous for being a visual art form and directors will go to great lengths to ensure that a shot will convey a message, reveal an emotion, or support the plot. In contrast, Woody Allen uses a disembodied narrator to explain important plot elements, character's backgrounds, and future events. It makes the whole move seem like a rough draft and removes the viewer from the emotional impact.

The dialogue and actors are superb. Javiar Bardem as the seductive man of few and direct words who drives women crazy. Scarlet Johanssen as the free spirit who knows exactly what she doesn't want. Rebecca Hall as the woman who overthinks everything. And especially Penelope Cruz as the wild woman filled with passion for both love and drama

A strange movie where the narrator explains every past and future event to the viewer .

Just in case you didn't know, being wealthy doesn't guarantee that you will be happy and doesn't protect you from personal tragedy. That is the long and drawn-out conclusion of this six-episode series.

Wealthy US expats live a seeming life of luxury in 2014 Hong Kong with live-in servants, personal drivers, fabulous apartments, extravagant parties, and unlimited funds. What could go wrong? Cheating spouses abound in a city where rich males are treated like princes and women are always available to satisfy them. Bitchy mothers pop up like mosquitos to aggravate the women and to pick at old wounds. Meanwhile the wealthy women feel unappreciated and trapped in their confined gender roles.

Unexpected tragedy strikes and a mother lashes out in anger. But the tragedy is never resolved, and the characters must learn to live with pain, guilt, and loneliness.

The saving grace of this series is the complex interaction between the rich expats and their imported servants from third world countries.